


Dance For Me

by SonakuraNyria



Series: Smutty Gay Things (collection of one-shots) [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean the Prima Ballerina, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10547324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonakuraNyria/pseuds/SonakuraNyria
Summary: Sam can't take his eyes off Dean as he watches his older brother dance.





	

Dean's fascination with the ballerina slippers hadn't ended with just placing the cursed objects into it's case. Nope. Sam hadn't been concerned when Dean had flipped the channel of the tv from shark week to a production of dancers. He hadn't even bothered to care when Dean had suddenly went into a mode of hysteric clapping as a prima ballerina had bowed her head. Even when they had gone to the department store to select new clothes, Sam hadn't been concerned. He had noticed the longing stare Dean's grass green eyes reflected as they passed a row of tutus. His older brother lingering along the aisles as they passed. Pace slowed as his fingers trailed along the fabric. Sam burst into laughter at the scene before him. Collapsing inwards as the wind gusted out of his lungs. Dean was not amused. He had stalked past Sam, bumping into Sam with a solid shoulder. His posture reflecting that he was embarrassed. 

Weeks past since the incident and Dean didn't show any signs of attraction towards being a ballerina. The memory of it having dispersed entirely as they worked more cases. All was fine and well till, Sam walked in and caught Dean bound up with a full on leotard. The older Winchester following the movements of the ballerina on screen. Muscular thighs taut as Dean lifted one leg high. His hands and arms looped above his head. The stretch of the material leaving no line undefined. The leggings hugging Dean's thighs were emerald blue as was the leotard. His pecs bulging against the fabric, his nipples hard and proud as they strained to present themselves against the spandex. Dean's twirl was elegant and the precision in every fluid motion exhibited had Sam's full attention. He wordlessly watched with keen eyes as Dean's lavender tutu rustled from the slight brush of spandex covered thighs. Calves bulked and ankles thick with grace. When the music came to an end, Dean bowed to an invincible audience. His dark brown hair neatly combed. Those dazzling bottle cap green eyes passionate with feverish pride as he straightened. Sam found himself clapping. Long outdrawn claps that vibrated around the whole room. Dean's eyes wide with panic as he sought to cover his body with his towel. 

"Sammy! You're...um..uh...back early." Dean croaked out as he avoided direct eye contact. Any exposed skin shining was shining sweat. Dean licking his lips out of forced habit and partially to relieve the dryness from no water. Sam pushed himself away from the wall approaching Dean with long strides till he stood, looming over Dean. Dean's Adam's Apple bobbing along the column of his constricted throat as Sam reached a confident hand out to press into Dean's hip. The older Winchester shuddering at the heat that seeped through the material.

"Dance for me."

Dean flinches as he walks over to his bed to be rid of his ballerina slippers. 

"Stop it, Sam, if you're going to make fun of me then at least just laugh. Don't say stupid things." Dean mumbles as he struggles to get the damn slippers off. His hands are stilled by Sam's. 

"I'm not making fun of you. I would love to see you dance for me." Sam's voice is void of any teasing, he's sincere as he places the greatest puppy stare Dean has ever made acquaintance with. Dean's heart throbs as he wipes his flustered face. He let's Sam guide him back to his feet, tossing the towel aside as Dean breathes. 

"I can't do it." Dean's voice flutters as he feels his limbs shake. He doesn't like Sam's eyes on him. Doesn't like being all girly when he's always presenting himself as a macho man. 

"You can, I would love to watch you." Sam insistence as he holds his hands out for Dean to take. Dean can't suppress his self-consciousness, brushing his fingers against Sam's palm. His younger brother smile beams up the entire room as Dean feels Sam pull him to the middle of the room.

"Dance for me." Sam's voice laced with nostalgia as Dean positions himself. Closing his eyes as he imagines the music flooding the motel room. He imagines himself on stage, body fluid in time with each key pressed. Sam's hazel eyes never leave Dean, he doesn't blink as he watches Dean's arms float above his head. The concentration evident on Dean's face as Sam witnesses the calculated steps. Every pointed toe is surrounded by a flurry of magic. The dim room with only the shades letting in sunlight that presses around Dean's body. Outlining his tutu as Dean twirls. There's a moment where Dean's eyes lift to meet Sam's. The intensity of that stare takes Sam's oxygen out of his lungs as Dean leaps. Reminds Sam of a antelope, the pure muscles and energy. The fast flash that stuns and goes in slow motion as you watch. Sam's not sure what has come over Dean but whatever it is, Sam can savor it. _ Will  _ savor it and he'll always remember Dean as perfect as he is in the moment. Dean's movements halt altogether and he bows once more in front of Sam. They lock eyes as Dean walks over to wipe himself down with his towel. Throwing himself backwards as exhaustions sinks in. Sam comes to sit beside Dean and help remove the outfit. 

"That was.." Sam cuts himself off as he processes everything he's seen within those moments. Dean's snoring lightly by the time Sam finds words to say. 

The next time Sam catches Dean dancing is when they're in the bunker. Dean's forgotten to lock his door. His eyes shut as he twirls. Bluetooth headphones on and no doubt entranced by the same music Sam had heard a year before. Sam just sits down on the bed. Hiking to the center to avoid bumping into Dean as he gets a full show of Dean's movements. Sam can think of a thousand words to express the emotion he gets by seeing Dean like this. But he can't find one that's accurate enough to describe what it is that Dean does. It's not truly dancing. It's an art but it can not be pinned down with just words. When Sam sees Dean free of all burden it's far more enticing than having Dean naked. Vulnerabilities laid out into the open and care free of any judgement. Sam yearns to feel Dean's dancing encrust itself in his bones. He closes his eyes and sways to music in his memory. 

"Sam!" Dean conceals himself with his jacket as he throws his headphones at Sam. "You do not come into another man's room unannounced!"

"Dean, calm down. It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."

"This is different! What a man does in his own room is private business."

"You captivate me, Dean." Sam starts, words gushing out. "When you are like this, I can't blink. I can't breathe right. I can't take my eyes off of you."

"Sam-"

"Dance for me." Sam's lips brush out the words in a small gust of air. He stares at Dean with wonder as Dean decides on what's the appropriate reaction. He offers his hands to Sam to take, pulling the younger Winchester out from the crowd.

"Dance with me." 

"I can't." Sam's eyes are downcast to his shoes. He feels out of place with the pristine idol that was Dean. All glorified in a leotard, tutu and ballerina slippers.

"You can, I'd love to watch you." 

Sam feels the bedroom has grown larger as Dean shuffles closer to press chest to chest with Sam. He feels himself becoming apart of Dean as they move in circles around the room. Their dance is simple and old fashioned but it's theirs. Dean is adorned in his leotard, the perfect ballerina as he clutches Sam's shoulder with one hand and the other placed on top of Sam's. When Sam twirls Dean, he watches the way the tutu floats before encasing Dean's thighs once more. Dean being dipped is the finally touch as Sam slides his nose into Dean's exposed collarbone. Slotted perfectly as they always are. 

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Promise you'll always dance for me." Sam's words are constricted as he draws them both upright. He wants to live in the moment forever. Forget the troubles of the pasts. If he's going to Heaven then he wants it to be just like this. Dean's lips brushing Sam's chin as he tiptoes to peck Sam's lips. 

"I'll always dance for you."


End file.
